


Walking After You

by inthesummer



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesummer/pseuds/inthesummer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bastian wanted them to be equal, but Philipp always seemed to be a step ahead of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking After You

It’s not that hard to guess the narrative with which people will talk about them when (and perhaps even much later after) they finally hang their boots: two leaders – one captain, one the boss – of the so-called Germany’s golden generation, going through thick and thin together for years even when they seemed to always be denied the glory; their leadership qualities constantly scrutinized and doubted before tables were turned and they, at long last, led their teams to achieve everything there was to achieve, efficiently silencing their critics once and for all.

Such a formidable partnership, people would say, and though it’s no secret that they have been playing together since they were very young, most would think that the two have only begun to stick together to prove their worth since they were trusted with responsibilities of being captains, and that their relationship has only morphed into something more like friendship since the disaster that was year 2012. After all, they did admit from time to time how it brought them closer.

What most wouldn’t know, however, is that such partnership actually started as early as the second week of their training together in Bayern's youth team. They weren’t captains then, of course they weren’t, and they weren’t struggling under the pressure and the expectations. Not yet, anyway.

Back then, they were simply Philipp and Bastian, two awfully young boys, both not amused of being secretly laughed at behind their back by some of their teammates for some silly reasons: Philipp for being a little too small for his preferred position (or the sport at all), Bastian for having one too many pimples on his face.

“They really need to shut the fuck up,” Bastian growled, clenched his fists tight as he glared at the direction of the locker room’s door where the last of the teammates in question had just disappeared from sight. Philipp didn’t say a word, just calmly collecting his belongings from the locker and stuff them into his duffel bag.

“They’re not worth the trouble,” he said later, shrugging his tiny shoulders.

“So what? You’re just gonna let them keep talking?”

Philipp snorted. “As if,” he smirked, in a way that had Bastian keeping a mental note for himself never to cross this boy in front of him. “But there’s a much better way to shut them up without using our fists. We just have to hit them where it hurts the most.”

And Philipp was out of the door before Bastian could even asked what he meant.

-

As it was, Bastian found out what Philipp had meant exactly a week later, when they, along with the others, were gathered together after the regular training session. Their coach acknowledged their hard work during the training, as per usual, but then he specifically mentioned how good Philipp had been in the past week before the team was dismissed.

Bastian did not need to look at his other teammates to know that some of them were seething silently. Instead, he focused his attention to Philipp, who seemed to stay unaffected by the compliment, though Bastian couldn’t help but notice the faint flush on his cheeks.

For a moment there, he felt angry too, at Philipp, because weren’t they supposed to be in it together? Okay, so maybe there wasn’t a verbal agreement or even a handshake to seal the deal, but he could remember clearly how Philipp had said _we_ instead of _I_ , so Bastian thought the other boy had meant to include him in this whole payback scheme. Obviously Philipp hadn’t, and silly as it might sound, Bastian felt betrayed for being left behind.

He was about to turn around to leave the training ground when Philipp’s eyes caught his, and Bastian didn’t know how he knew, but the moment Philipp cocked an eyebrow and smiled at him, Bastian understood that Philipp hadn’t left him behind after all – but Bastian needed to get to where Philipp was on his own.

So he practiced hard, harder than he had ever done before.

When the coach said his name the following week, Bastian grinned at Philipp, and they high-fived for the first time.

-

In hindsight, it would become obvious to Bastian how that very incident showed their dynamics in a nutshell: Philipp was calm where he was emotional, Philipp stood a step ahead of him where he was trailing behind, trying to close the gap between them.

It used to bother him, at first, because he did not want to lose to Philipp, he wanted them to be equal just so Philipp would never look down on him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Basti,” Philipp had once told him, punching his arm lightly. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are slightly – and _only_ slightly! – taller than me so how is that even possible?”

Bastian would soon agree that yes, it’s ridiculous, totally so, because this was Philipp, his very own friend, and Bastian might as well trust no one if he couldn’t even trust Philipp.

-

They made their debut for Bayern’s first team on the same game, and Bastian already lost count of the high-fives they’d shared.

-

Philipp got the call to the senior national team months before he did, and he greeted Bastian with a grin when the younger finally joined him.

“Wow,” Bastian said, still reeling from the amazement of having the chance to play for his country together with the seniors. “I can’t believe I made it here.”

Philipp laughed and nudged his shoulder. “It’s just the beginning. We’re gonna go places from now on.”

Bastian didn’t say anything to that and just glanced at the young man sitting next to him. If he hadn’t known better, he would think that Philipp was being cocky just now. Being called to the national team was a huge deal, something that no one should take for granted – just because you got the first call did not mean the second would automatically follow. It took real hard work to stay around.

But Bastian did know better, and he knew Philipp wasn’t being cocky – he simply believed in himself, perfectly aware of what he was capable of. He wondered if Philipp would get to those places before he did though, and Bastian realized just now that it shouldn’t matter anyway.

He just needed to keep going, after Philipp, to get to where Philipp believed he _too_ could be, and he knew now that Philipp would be waiting for him with that smile he had come to know so well.

-

It took him over a year, but Bastian managed to catch up with Philipp and scored his first goal for Germany. He even found the net twice, in that same friendly, and he supposed he should be feeling thrilled.

Well, he _was_ , but it did not stop him from ruing the fact that he could not find Philipp on the pitch and share this moment with him.

He told Philipp as much when he gave the other a call after the match was long over.

“I know,” Philipp’s small voice was carried over the line. “Wish I had been there, too.”

-

When it happened, Bastian couldn’t decide whether he had or had not seen it coming. But, either way, Philipp was dating a girl, and Bastian knew it’s a serious thing even before his friend told him so with a rather shy smile on his face. Philipp had never been one to have flings here and there – he was.

“Man, can’t believe you beat me yet again,” Bastian said, mock hurt painting his face though deep down it didn’t really feel as if he was feigning it.

Philipp laughed and punched his arm. “Oh, shut up! This isn’t some competition.”

Philipp was right, of course, but Bastian still felt as if he’d just lost a battle he didn’t even know he was fighting in.

“So. Why her?” he asked before he could stop himself. He didn’t know why he even asked in the first place, why it even mattered, and he hoped the tone of his voice was light enough so Philipp wouldn’t think he was dying inside to know.

The silence that followed felt rather awkward, and Bastian was ready to brush off the question and say he was sorry for being so nosy when Philipp finally spoke.

“She understands me, I guess.”

Bastian had expected anything; at some point he was even certain Philipp would begin to wax lyrical about the girl, but definitely not what Philipp had just told him. He silently gritted his teeth to keep from saying some smart remark at Philipp’s answer, because it just sounded so ridiculous no matter how hard he tried to make sense of it.

 _I understand you too, Fips_ , he wanted to say, _perhaps way even better than she ever could_.

The realization hit him hard then, and his stomach lurched.

Oh, _fuck_.

-

The curious thing was, Bastian didn’t know the _how_ and the _why_ and the _when_.

Even now, after he had spent a night lying awake reminiscing all the past years he had spent together with Philipp, he still couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where he had fallen for his best friend. But heck, he hadn’t even figured out why it had to be Philipp, of all people.

He supposed he had always known that Philipp was different. _Special_. Philipp might not be the only friend he had made over the years, and yet he had always felt close to him, closer than he had been to his other friends, even Lukas. Bastian always thought it’s only because he and Philipp had been friends the longest, but perhaps he had been lying to himself all this time.

Still, it did not explain why. It’s not like he had been dreaming of Philipp’s blue eyes, or Philipp’s hair that looked so soft he would love to run his fingers through it, or the way Philipp’s mouth curled up when he was about to smile before it broke into a wide, blinding grin, or how Philipp seemed to fit perfectly in his arms whenever they hugged to celebrate a goal.

Bastian snorted and took another gulp of beer. Funny how he never really noticed all these little things before, and now he wondered if he could ever look at Philipp the same way again.

-

He couldn’t, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t pretend that nothing changed, that he was still the same Bastian before he figured things out, and Philipp to him was still the same best friend he had been all these years.

He could try, but some days it’s just not easy to keep pretending; harder still when he sometimes caught Philipp looking at him when the other thought he wasn’t looking, and Philipp was looking at him like he was an open book, like Philipp actually knew the one thing he had kept secret.

But Philipp never said a thing, so Bastian didn’t, either.

-

Nothing could have prepared Bastian for the whirlwind that was Thomas. It amazed him how the younger just seemed to latch on to his side from day one and never left since, no matter what Bastian said.

And Bastian could swear Thomas just wouldn’t stop talking about everything and nothing, and within days he had been flooded with too much information about the other it almost felt as if they had been friends since forever.

He didn’t mind much, though. In a way, Thomas was like a breath of fresh air. He could be Thomas’ friend without having to feel bad for secretly wanting more (like he wanted Philipp), and he wouldn’t have to be too careful in how he behaved in fear of people interpreting their closeness the wrong way (like they did to him and Lukas, and it would’ve been so awkward if they hadn’t found it ridiculous and laughed it off).

Thomas was a good guy, and Bastian liked him. That’s why he didn’t try to deny anything when Thomas confronted him about his feeling for Philipp. Besides, it felt rather nice, to have someone he trusted that he could talk about this matter with.

But then Thomas started to put ideas into his head, ideas Bastian would rather _not_ think of, and he didn’t know anymore.

-

_“Say what? I bet my horses he likes you, too.”_

_“Thomas...”_

_“Look. If it’s growing on you through the years you’ve spent together, who’s to say it’s not growing on him, too?”_

_“Thomas.”_

_“What?”_

_“Just shut up.”_

_-_

To his credit, Thomas at least had the grace not to mention about it anymore, though it didn’t stop him from throwing Bastian a knowing look with a matching knowing smile whenever Philipp was near.

Bastian would just roll his eyes, but it’s getting harder to block out the voice echoing inside his head, which only seem to grow louder with each passing day, screaming all the _what if_ ’s.

His head was hurting almost as much as his heart.

-

Philipp was sitting on the bench near one of the training pitches when Bastian found him. They were supposed to be in their rooms in fifteen, but Philipp didn’t look like he would leave anytime soon, so Bastian decided to join him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked as he walked to sit next to the other. Philipp wasn’t startled by his voice, as if he had sensed, somehow, that Bastian was there even before he made his presence known.

Philipp stayed silent, and upon closer inspection now that they were side by side, Bastian noticed that Philipp was holding the newly-given armband. He looked up and tried to read Philipp’s face, but it was rather difficult, given the lack of light.

“It’s just. I don’ know. It still feels a bit weird, all this,” Philipp confessed.

Bastian bumped their shoulders lightly. “Well, I guess being captain of your national team takes some getting used to, eh?”

Philipp let out a chuckle and Bastian grinned.

“Remember what you told me when I just got called into the NT?” he spoke again because Philipp was still not talking. “That we’re gonna go places. It’s coming true, Fips. And how cool is it that you’ll be leading the team while we’re at it?”

“I won’t,” Philipp said, and he turned to look at Bastian when he continued. “We both will. I’m not doing this alone, Basti. I _need_ you.”

Bastian’s heart skipped a beat. He hoped Philipp wouldn’t notice how quickly – and awkwardly – he looked away. Philipp still had his eyes on him though, he could feel his gaze.

“I’m the vice, aren’t I? So if you need anything, I’m at your service.”

Philipp kept quiet, just clamped a hand on Bastian’s shoulder as he got on his feet and told Bastian that they should head back inside now, but he left without waiting for the other to follow him.

Bastian stared at Philipp’s retreating back till it disappeared out of his sight and wondered how many more things would be left unsaid between them.

-

Philipp scored on his first game as captain. He scored and Bastian couldn’t be more proud and happy, and he ran to welcome Philipp into his arms.

He didn’t ever want to let go.

-

Since Philipp came into the picture, Bastian had wanted many things. Some were his own selfish needs, most were the dreams he shared with Philipp. And he had been trying, hardest as he could, to make those dreams come true, one at a time, because then Philipp would be happy, and honestly, that’s the one thing Bastian wanted more than anything else in the world.

But now he had let his team down, undoubtedly failed Philipp, and Bastian hadn’t got a clue how he could live with that.

“I’m sorry,” he said when they were the only ones left in the dressing room. From somewhere on his right, Philipp dropped his bag and let out a tired sigh.

“Basti, would you please stop—“

“I held you back from places you’re supposed to be, Fips. If I hadn’t missed—“

A loud bang, and Bastian all but winced, not because of the noise Philipp’s clenched fist made when it came into contact with the locker, but the way Philipp was glaring at him.

“Is that what you always think, all this time? I’ve never taken you for a fool, Basti, but maybe I was wrong. All these years and you still don’t understand.”

He left before Bastian could say anything.

-

Thomas looked too cheerful for someone who had just been filled in his friend’s misery. Bastian wanted nothing but to wipe that stupid smile off his face.

“Stop grinning like an idiot, you’re creeping me out,” he snarled, and really, it spoke volume of how close as friends they were that Thomas wasn’t the least bit offended. If anything, his smile only seemed to grow wider. Bastian groaned.

But even in his stupor, he could tell that Thomas was dying to tell him something – there was eagerness in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide.

“Just say it,” he growled. “You think he’s right. You think I’m a fool.”

“It ain’t no fun telling you something you already know,” Thomas shrugged nonchalantly, his wide grin still intact. “Besides, that’s not what you want me to tell you. You want me to tell you that _I_ was right, about Philipp, though you already know this, too.”

Bastian’s head hurt for trying to chew Thomas’ words.

“You spoke too much.”

Thomas sighed, for once sounded exasperated. _Great_ , Bastian thought, he’s so good at driving everyone around him up the wall.

“You’re so annoyingly stubborn sometimes I wonder how Philipp could put up with you for so long.”

Bastian looked as if he was pondering over something, but in the end, all he said was, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

-

Thomas was right. Philipp was right.

But he, _too_ , was right.

All these years, Philipp always seemed to manage to be a step ahead of him in nearly everything.

This time was no different.

-

They were sitting on a bench, and Bastian couldn’t help thinking that they had been in a similar situation before. But they were in a different training camp now, preparing for a different tournament and, unlike the last time, it had been him sitting here all alone before Philipp joined him.

The other hadn’t spoken since, and Bastian knew he was waiting.

He glanced at Philipp out of the corner of his eyes, thought about how he had changed so much and yet remained the same. And Bastian realized that the same could be said about them. The world around them kept changing, people came into and went out of their lives, and yet they were still on each other’s side, like a constant, and Bastian liked it, needed it to stay that way, couldn’t imagine life without it.

“Remember when we had that talk after you became captain?” he asked, didn’t exactly wait for Philipp to answer because he was sure Philipp remembered everything as well as he did. “Some words you said that night, they kind of messed up with my head, you had no idea.”

Philipp shifted, and even without looking Bastian knew the older was staring at him now. For a moment it made him feel so self-conscious, insecure as if he was the very young boy with too many pimples all over again, even though he had long since outgrown that boy.

“I love you, Fips,” Bastian said, determined not to let any more things left unsaid between them. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I need you, too, and I need you to need me not because you’re my captain and I’m your vice, but because you’re Philipp and I’m Bastian.”

Philipp had silently placed his hand on top of his, and Bastian stared at their linked hands instead of Philipp’s face. It just looked so right, much like how the two of them together felt so right. Bastian smiled at the thought.

“Glad we’re on the same page now. Took you long enough,” Bastian chuckled at the words, and wasn’t surprised to find Philipp smirking when he finally looked up to meet Philipp’s eyes. It was dark out here, but Bastian didn’t need light to see the beautiful shade of blue in them, and the eyelashes that seemed even longer as he leaned closer, their breath mingle, their foreheads touching.

“Let’s go places and win things, you and I,” he said quietly.

Philipp looked terrified, relieved and disappointed at the same time it’s amusingly cute, and Bastian almost changed his mind not to kiss him right here, right now.

But they had all the time in the world, so there’s no need to hurry.

-

They didn’t win, again, and now people were talking.

Bastian had Philipp in his arms, held his hand, told him stories from his skiing days, tried to stop themselves from thinking that those people were right; that maybe, probably, they were not meant for places they’d always dreamed of.

-

He ran to Philipp as soon as the ball found the net, because he had made it happen. No, _they_ had made it happen – Philipp assisted, Bastian scored.

It was _perfect_ , and it kept their dreams alive.

-

Philipp was crying.

Philipp Lahm, who was so good at holding back and keeping his emotions at bay, was crying, and any other day Bastian would not let it happen.

But this moment, right here, was not any other day, and Philipp was crying for the right reason, the same reason that had him down on his knees as soon as the whistle blew.

Someone had his arms around their shoulders, bringing them together, but Bastian only had half the mind to tell who it was because Philipp was looking at him, had his red, teary eyes on him all the time before wrapping his arms around Bastian, burying his face on the crook of Bastian’s shoulder.

Bastian drew him even closer, tightened his hold, and the world went still. Philipp spoke then, his voice was muffled against the fabric of his jersey but Bastian could hear it perfectly.

“We’re finally here.”

-

_Bastian and I have played together for sixteen years. It’s wonderful to celebrate this trophy together._

Bastian found it somewhat amusing that people seemed to be quite awed when Philipp had said it. He supposed sixteen years was a long time indeed, though if anyone should ask him, it did not feel that long at all; it’s not enough, and he wanted more.

“Hey, Fips,” he called quietly, fingers running through Philipp’s hair as the other snuggled closer and lay his head on Bastian’s shoulder. “What would become of us when we finally stop playing?”

Philipp didn’t even tear his gaze away from whatever it was they were watching on TV – Bastian hadn’t really paid attention – and answered like he didn’t need to stop to think for he was so sure, like he would not settle for anything else, like Bastian was still a fool for even asking.

It was an answer worth a thousand kisses, and Bastian was willing to give Philipp just that – and so much more.

“Together, as we’ve always been.”

-

 

**Author's Note:**

> Basically my take on their years-long friendship. Again, I'm perfectly aware that it might have been overused, but I just had to write it because this is how I see them, and I have to say I enjoyed writing this one because it led me to notice and discover few things about Philipp and Bastian I didn't know before.
> 
> Unbeta'ed, so corrections and feedback are much welcome :)


End file.
